


Look at me With Warm Eyes

by whosbrian



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Childhood Friends, Fluff, M/M, Reunions, kinda cheesy but i like it that way, soulmates? not specified in the fic but cmon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:00:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28324965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whosbrian/pseuds/whosbrian
Summary: San is starting his first semester of university. He's not very excited about it. Not excited at all, actually.Until, in the grand auditorium, his eyes meet those of a man he thought he'd never see again.
Relationships: Choi San/Song Mingi, Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36





	Look at me With Warm Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [withluvsan (lostlovelis)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostlovelis/gifts).



> hi!
> 
> this is my participation to the writertiny secret santa fic exchange on twitter! i wrote this for [winter](https://twitter.com/withluvsan) , i truly hope you enjoy your gift and have a lovely christmas
> 
> the title is from got7'S song [you are](https://open.spotify.com/track/0onCsNOWfUMt1ERQ0TI9Zt) which i think fits the fic really well
> 
> little heads up, the school system i'm referencing throughout the fic is the one in my country, which is pretty much unique and works in strange ways. you shouldn't get too lost while reading but i still wanted to specify! i tried referencing the american system at first and got extremely confused so i gave up lol
> 
> have fun reading this unhealthy amount of fluff and cheesiness!

It’s a terrible day to start your first semester of university.

Despite it being the last week of August, therefore technically still summer, the weather is appalling. The sky is veiled by thin gray clouds that fall into mist as they get lower, making the air humid, the kind of chill that sinks right to your bones and makes you freeze from the inside. The already grim looking school building looks even more grim in the dull lighting. Not very encouraging.

San is already not too excited to start university. He had chosen to enter the law program mostly to please his parents, despite his true love being painting.  _ Art won’t get you anywhere,  _ they had told him, and they refused to pay for his education if it didn’t give him a “real job” at the end. Law wasn’t  _ that _ bad, if he was being completely honest, but he would still switch to an arts major if he ever had the opportunity.

He’s lucky enough to be in the same department as his two best friends, Wooyoung and Yeosang, who he met in his first year of high school. The couple is ecstatic to start this new chapter of their life, especially since they finally started to live together after years of dreaming about it. San wishes their enthusiasm will rub off on him, but he doesn’t get his hopes too high. 

Entering the main building turns out to be a harder task than expected for the three boys. There are a lot more students than what San is used to, even coming from a pretty big college, and he finds it a little overwhelming. He knew social sciences was a packed department, but he didn’t think it was  _ that _ packed. They somehow manage to stick together as they walk through the crowded hallways in their attempt to reach the information office. Finally, they retrieve their schedules for the semester and settle in the line to enter the auditorium, which progresses at a painfully slow pace. 

This is going to be a long day.

After  stiflingly long minutes standing between two cheerful groups of students, they enter the room, a teacher welcoming them with a pamphlet of the establishment’s values, main infrastructures and organizations. It could be helpful, San thinks, if only he wasn’t convinced he’ll lose it the second it leaves his hands.

He climbs the carpeted stairs and sits in the old chairs of the auditorium alongside Yeosang and Wooyoung, who quickly get too engrossed in each other to truly pay him attention. Which is fine. He’s used to it; he’s been their official third wheeler for years, after all. Every couple needs one anyway, right?

Tuning out from the boys’ conversation, he lets his eyes wander around the big room, scanning the other students in his department. He spots a few familiar faces from his old high school and college, his new teammates in the university’s volleyball team, some tall dude he knows he’s played against at least once. Then his eyes meet someone else’s, and he freezes in his spot.

He knows these eyes. Even after seven years without seeing them, even behind thick rimmed glasses, it’d be impossible for him not to recognize them. They belong to Song Mingi, the only person he’s ever loved.

They met when they were five. They started primary school at the same time and were in the same class from grade one to six, by some miraculous series of coincidences. They got close quickly, and always, always played together. From the very first day, San marveled over Mingi’s eyes, small but constantly wide with wonder for every little thing around him, from the small caterpillars they found on the trees in San’s yard to the impressive buildings they had seen during one of their school trips to the city. 

For six years, they remained glued to each other. They made other friends, sure, but in San’s eyes, not one of them came close to Mingi, and he knew that the other felt the same (for he had told him so on many occasions). The other’s house had become their own, and the other’s parents had welcomed them in their respective families with open arms. They spent many days running around their neighbourhood or relaxing in their backyards, and many nights curled up together under soft blankets, talking about everything and anything, not once getting bored of the other’s presence. Their friendship was the most precious thing in San’s world.

San could never forget the last day he saw Mingi. It was the first day of August, a bright sun shining over them, promising them a memorable last month of summer vacation before starting high school. They had walked to the ice cream shop down the street where Mingi lived, buying themselves treats with the little money their parents had given them. It was nothing out of the ordinary, really. Just the two of them, enjoying the warmth of the breeze and chatting about whatever was on their mind at the time. Lost in the moment. San doesn’t remember exactly what the conversation was about, but he  _ does _ know that at one point, he had turned to Mingi, who was actively talking, a passionate glint in his beautiful eyes, waving his hands around excitedly, some ice cream smeared on his cheek. In that exact moment, San remembers his heart growing incredibly warm, even more than it usually was when he was with Mingi; a different kind of warmth, one that filled his body from head to toe and made him forget about anything that wasn’t Mingi. He remembers being so focused on the other boy that he almost fell face front on the pavement as he tripped over his untied shoelace, making Mingi laugh brightly over his ice cream cone. San remembers thinking that he would do anything to hear Mingi laugh again, and thinking that all of this felt awfully similar to that feeling he had read about in all the novels he devoured on the rare occasions Mingi wasn’t around. Love, he thought it was called. He found it fitting.

They spent the rest of the afternoon together, sitting on the rusty swings of the park near Mingi’s house until the sun had started setting and San had to go home for dinner, since he had to pack his bags for his family’s yearly camping trip. The last memory he has of Mingi is hugging him goodbye, like every other day, the last sun rays bathing them in its orange light, the other’s small arms wrapping him in a safe embrace, his beautiful eyes turned golden by the sunset.

When San came back from his week of camping, Mingi and his family were gone. Without a single word. 

To this day, San still doesn’t know why Mingi left or where he went. All he knows is that he still misses the boy with every day that passes, every breath he takes, and that he loves him just as much as he did on that last day. He misses his familiar presence, his warm voice, his comforting eyes. 

San hasn’t seen these eyes in seven years. Seven long years of longing, of yearning, for the only person that has ever taken his heart. And suddenly, here they are, staring right back at him with that same look of wonder they have always held.

San feels a pull at his heart and makes a move to get up, to go meet him, and he sees Mingi doing the same, but at that moment, he hears the principal tapping the mic, creating a howling sound that has the entire audience wincing, signaling the start of the welcome lecture. San knows that the despair in Mingi’s face is also present on his, but he sits back nonetheless with a puzzled look from Wooyoung. 

San spends the next hour on the edge of his seat, his knee bouncing in anticipation. He really couldn’t care less about school politics when the litteral love of his life is unexpectedly sitting less than fifty meters away from him after seven years of being God knows where. He hears Wooyoung whispering some witty commentary about the speech to his boyfriend, and normally he’d pipe in and contribute, but now he just wants the meeting to end. He’s never felt so eager in his life.

Time seems to be going slower than usual, the minutes rolling past at a sluggish pace. The principal's voice is echoing in San’s brain without him registering a single thing that’s being said. Every few seconds, he sends glances in Mingi’s direction, half of them met with Mingi’s own frustrated gaze. San clenches his fist in anger. This is so absurd. Why did he have to spot Mingi at the last second? Why hadn’t he seen him enter the auditorium?

After what feels like decades, the principal finally gives his closing remarks.

“Alright, students, thank you for your attention, it is very appreciated. I wish you all a wonderful first semester of university in our establishment. You can now leave and go visit the different society booths in the gyms-”

San tunes out the rest of the instructions, grabbing his backpack and hurrying down the stairs of the auditorium. He pushes through the already thick crowd in front of him, throwing half assed excuses around, his heart pounding in his chest. In the sea of students, he suddenly wonders if he imagined it all, despite spending the entire meeting looking at the other man. Could Mingi really be here, after all this time? How would he end up in San’s university? His breath picks up and he desperately looks around, trying to find the familiar face once again. For a dreadful second, he can’t spot him, with too many students walking around in front of him to properly focus. Then, the masses thin, and he’s there. 

He’s standing right at the bottom of the rows of seats, looking around just as frantically as San is. San feels relief flood through his veins, his heart beating so hard he thinks his ribcage might explode. He takes a deep breath and yells through the auditorium.

“Mingi!”

The other boy turns at the call of his name, and their eyes meet once again, with such intensity that San slightly stumbles backwards. They look at each other for a split second, and then they’re running.

They cut through the thinning crowd, pushing past groups of students. The tug at San’s heart is back, pulling him to Mingi, pushing him forward. With every step, he feels it getting stronger, spreading to his entire body, burning through each of his limbs. 

It feels like he’s been running forever when they finally reach each other and their bodies collide, falling into a tight embrace. Their bags are in the way, but neither of them care. They hold on to each other like their lives depend on it, like the other will disappear if they ever let go. San buries his face in the crook of Mingi’s neck, closing his eyes, engulfed in the other’s strong arms.  _ He still smells the same _ , San realizes, a soft scent of lavender shampoo with a tinge of vanilla ice cream. San takes in a shaky breath with a small smile, tears burning the back of his eyes. He feels like he’s finally come home.

“Mingi,” he whispers.

“San,” the other answers, wrapping his arms even more tightly around his shoulders, burying one hand in his hair.

There’s so many questions he wants to ask, so many things he wants to say, but for now all he’s able to do is to cling to Mingi with all his might. It doesn’t feel real, to hold the other man,  _ finally _ , after all this time. He thanks whatever force has brought Mingi back in his life.

They stand there for minutes, hours, days, San doesn’t really know. He barely registers the other students going around them as they leave the auditorium, the big room quickly growing quieter. Mingi’s body is warm against his own, and the other’s big hands keep threading through his hair in soft motions, like they always did when they were kids. It all feels so familiar. He had missed this. San bathes in that feeling for as long as he can,  but no amount of euphoria from being cradled so gently could top finally being able to see what he had missed the most. He lifts his head from where it was settled in the crook of Mingi’s neck and looks up at him. He examines his features with attention, and he feels the other do the same.  _ He’s even more beautiful than I remembered _ , he thinks to himself. The line of his jaw is more pronounced, the sharp slope of his nose even sharper, his lips plush and soft. As always, his eyes are what strike San the most, their brown irises shining with joy in the same way they’ve always shone. 

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” Mingi suddenly utters with a small shake of his head. “I feel like I’m dreaming.”

San giggles. He’s missed that voice, though it is  _ a lot _ deeper than he remembered. “Me too,” he replies softly. He wants to say more, so much more, but the moment would come for grand declarations, he thinks. Instead, he settles for a simple remark.

“You’ve grown taller,” he says.

Mingi snorts a laugh that makes San’s insides swirl with butterflies. “In seven years I would expect to have grown a little, yes.” He pauses, scanning San’s face, smile never leaving his lips. “You’ve grown even prettier.”

Heat creeps onto San’s cheeks. He remembers Mingi to be a shy little kid, but then again, people  _ do _ tend to change in seven years. He reaches for Mingi’s face, gently cradling his jaw. “Since when did you need glasses?”

“Since I lost the ability to see farther than a foot in front of me,” Mingi replies, leaning into San’s hand. It’s really not that funny, but they both giggle. The air around them feels warm, keeping them in a safe bubble. San feels like he’s fucking  _ flying _ .

“Sorry to interrupt your moment, Sannie, but could you introduce us to your friend?”

San peels himself from Mingi just enough to be able to look at Wooyoung, who has finally come down the stairs, his bag thrown carelessly on one shoulder. Yeosang is standing one step higher, leaning on his boyfriend’s other shoulder, examining them closely. The latter’s eyes tell San that he already has an idea of what might be going on, perceptive as always. It makes San huff a laugh.

“Wooyoung, Yeosang, this is Mingi,” he announces. “Mingi, these are my best friends.”

Yeosang’s eyebrows raise, and Wooyoung nods in acknowledgement, throwing a wave and a small “hi”. Then his face lights up, and his mouth forms an  _ oh _ so wide it’s almost comical. “Wait, you mean  _ the _ Mingi? The dude you’ve been in love with since you were a kid but who disappeared when you started high school?”

Yeosang smacks his arm. “Way to go for keeping it lowkey, dumbass.”

San’s cheeks turn red, and he feels Mingi’s gaze on his face, scanning his expression. He turns back to meet the latter’s eyes, and the look of pure happiness he sees in them makes him lose any thought of being embarrassed. Wooyoung is right, after all. “Yeah.” Mingi blushes as well, and San smiles even wider. “It’s  _ the _ Mingi.”

He can hear Wooyoung laugh softly behind him. “Well, I wouldn’t want to disturb you guys much longer. Seems like you have a lot to catch up on.”

As San nods, Yeosang goes down the last steps to stand beside his boyfriend, linking their hands together. “Don’t forget the team meeting at noon, San. It’d give a bad impression to the coach if you arrived late to our first meeting of the year.”

San sighs. “I’ll be there on time, don’t worry.” He had completely forgotten about that meeting, to be very honest, but what choice does he have? He hasn’t met their new coach yet, and for all he knows, anything slightly out of line could have him benched for the first game of the season. It does pain him to have to leave Mingi so soon after being reunited with him, though.

Mingi seems to feel his frustration, because he holds San closer to his chest once again, slender fingers dancing in his hair. “It’s ok, I get it. We’ll catch up later. It’s not like a few hours will make a difference, after seven years.” San huffs a laugh. He isn’t wrong.

He hears Wooyoung and Yeosang’s voices get further away from them as they leave the auditorium, giving the two some privacy before they have to part ways. They stay rooted to their spot for some time again, swaying lightly to a silent beat that exists only for them. After a moment, San feels Mingi’s hand still in his hair as the man takes a deep breath. “Don’t you want to know where I was all this time?” he asks, his deep voice hesitant.

San thinks about it for a moment. Of course he wants to know. Of course he’s curious. It’s been at the back of his mind for years. But somehow, right now, it doesn’t really matter. Mingi is holding him like he held him that last day they had together, and that’s the one true important thing for San. “I do want to know,” he starts. “But we can talk about it later, when we actually have the time.” He pauses, enjoying the slow circles Mingi is rubbing on the small of his back. “Is it alright if I just want to hold you right now?”

He hears Mingi laugh over his head. “Of course.” His voice is incredibly fond. “Whatever works best for you. We have all the time in the world.”

As they stay rooted to their spot for another while, San has the fleeting thought that this would quickly become uncomfortable for most people. Just standing there in a hug for so long, not really saying anything. But somehow, for them, it makes sense. Staying in Mingi’s arms, listening to his heart beat softly next to his ear, it just feels  _ right _ . 

San knows he extended his time as much as he could when he feels Mingi’s arms close even tighter around his body before his grip grows soft. “You should go, Sannie,” he says. “I’d hate for you to be late because of me.” His voice is muffled by San’s hair. The latter huffs in frustration, pressing his forehead to Mingi’s shoulder one last time before pulling away. 

He unhooks his wrists from behind Mingi’s neck reluctantly, trailing his hand down Mingi’s arm to link their fingers together. He wishes he didn’t have to leave. He spent too long waiting for Mingi to be back in his life, and he doesn’t want to cut their reunion short because of some stupid volleyball meeting. He readjusts the heavy bag on his shoulders, sending a quick glance at the old clock on the auditorium wall. He  _ really _ has to go.

But before that.

“Do you want to go for a date later? To catch up on the last seven years.”

Mingi’s smile is soft, his eyes full of care behind his thick glasses. “I’d love to.”

Joy washes over San’s body, and he squeezes Mingi’s hands just a little tighter. The other squeezes right back. “Alright.”

“Alright.”

And just like that, it’s like they have never been apart.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


(Later, when the sun has gone down outside of the little cafe they settled in for their date and they’ve caught up with the outline of the other’s life in the past seven years, Mingi reaches over the table and takes a hold of San’s hand.

“Did your friend mean it when he said you’ve loved me all these years?” he asks softly, stroking San’s knuckles with his thumb.

San smiles tenderly at the other man, shifting his hand so their fingers intertwine. He motions Mingi closer with his other hand, both of them leaning slightly over their empty cups. They meet in the middle, in tandem, like they always have. San’s heart grows even warmer at the realization, and the wonder he finds in Mingi’s eyes gives him the last bit of courage he needed to place a small kiss on the other’s lips.

“He meant it.  _ I _ mean it. You’re the only one for me, Mingi.”

The smile that takes over Mingi’s face is the most beautiful thing San has ever seen.)

**Author's Note:**

> hello again!
> 
> as always thank you SO MUCH for reading, every hit means the world to me <3 winter, i truly hope you enjoyed your gift and that it met your expectations ><
> 
> special thanks to kiera for once again being the most amazing beta reader i could ask for
> 
> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/leeminhoelic) !


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